


Spark

by cantodelcolibri



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Canon Compliant, Datas tryin rl hard to figure out feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, M/M, Slow Burn, also i take the Fajo episode and give Data the support he deserves wtf tng writers, and Geordis being rl patient bless his heart, intensely requited affection, or at least I try to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23539204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantodelcolibri/pseuds/cantodelcolibri
Summary: It happened so gradually, Data almost didn’t think to consider it a cause for alarm. That was an oversight on his part—he was aware of the fundamental difference in how he and the humans around him perceived the world, but he didn’t always stop to calculate the breadth of misunderstanding that the difference could cause.But that same difference found Data staring down the Chief Engineer, whose mouth had been catatonically agape for the past fifteen seconds, in his own engine rooms while the ensigns surrounding them gawked owlishly. For their sakes, Data figured he should take the few minutes it seemed to be taking Geordi to pull himself together to look back into their shared pasts and gather his namesake.
Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 59
Kudos: 344





	Spark

**Author's Note:**

> *slides into the star trek tng fandom 30 years late with an entire starbucks* sup here’s my hot take on daforge

It happened so gradually, Data didn’t think to consider it a cause for alarm. That was an oversight on his part—he was aware of the fundamental difference in how he and the humans around him perceived the world, but he didn’t always stop to calculate the breadth of misunderstanding that the difference could cause. 

And yet, lapses in judgement of that nature very seldom occurred with the person gaping up at him, wide-eyed behind his VISOR (as observed in the wide arch of his brows), and Data was at a bit of a loss. 

In retrospect, there were signs from the beginning. Irregularities in his behavior code—or anomalies—that didn’t log as malfunctions in his nightly self-diagnostics. No correlation was observable, the blips were random and spaced far enough apart that he paid them no more mind than a tear in his skin or the instances where his core’s temperature elevated under stress. He simply marked the time and date of occurence and went on with his existence.

But in order to make sense of the situation Data found himself in (staring down the Chief Engineer, whose mouth had been catatonically agape for the past fifteen seconds, in his own engine rooms while the ensigns surrounding them gawked owlishly), he found he should take the few minutes it seemed to be taking Geordi to pull himself together to look back into their shared pasts and gather his namesake.

* * *

  
  


> 1.
> 
> The first anomaly relevant to Data’s current situation was logged in his memory banks as a lag in his speech-processor, which resulted in what Counselor Troi would label as becoming ‘tongue-tied’. 
> 
> En route to relieve the night shift crew mere weeks into their voyage, a pair of children ran between his legs, giving chase to airborne racing drones that whacked against the wall at just the right angle to send sparks flying and dislodge one of the manual input keyboards. A few steps ahead of him, a red-shirted command officer stopped in his tracks to assess the damage. Data stopped as well, and he watched with interest as Geordi La Forge (Data’s counterpart on the Bridge’s forward stations) repaired the broken computer panel along the hallway wall, prepared to offer his assistance if necessary. 
> 
> But Lt. La Forge made quick work of it, leaving Data in charge of lecturing the children for playing on the upper decks. 
> 
> “Thanks for that.” The conn officer nodded at him, and then at the two children standing to the side sporting matching apologetic expressions. But that was all the attention he gave them. He turned back to his task, brow furrowing in concentration. 
> 
> “Sorry about all this jostling,” said Lt. La Forge, a small smile stretching across his lips. “How’s that, Computer?” The panel slotted back in place, and the lieutenant gave it a few pats and looked up expectantly. 
> 
> _“Please restate request,”_ the computer answered. The lieutenant’s shoulders drooped, but he patiently did as asked. 
> 
> “You know, is the repair up to standards? No delay, no malfunctions?” 
> 
> _“Ship’s panel, deck two, aft port, intersection D is fully operational.”_
> 
> “That’s good. Thanks, Computer.” 
> 
> The computer remained silent to his gratitude. Data straightened, let the children run off to cause mischief elsewhere, and took two steps forward to stand beside La Forge at a respectable distance of thirty-five centimeters to account for personal space.
> 
> “You speak to the computer as you do to me.” He observed, choosing to forego a greeting in light of La Forge’s earlier nod of acknowledgement. 
> 
> “Data, hey.” La Forge said, immediately causing Data to regret his decision to not begin his statement with a greeting. “And uh… yeah?” He turned, and his VISOR blocked Data’s view of his eyes, but Data knew the officer’s attention rested entirely on him. 
> 
> “Hello lieutenant.” He amended. Then, “You also speak to me as you would to everyone else.” 
> 
> “Why wouldn’t I?” Geordi looked up at him curiously, head tilted to the side. A physical show of confusion. 
> 
> Data chose to inform him matter-of-factly that very few did, so he opened his mouth, tilted his head by twenty-five degrees, said: “Because…” and straightened it again as he reconsidered his response. Perhaps his words would be taken as admonishment. Data was, after all, the lieutenant’s superior officer. As a considerate second officer, Data had to make sure to explain to La Forge that he did not mean it in that sense. 
> 
> The lieutenant was looking at him. It wouldn’t do to keep him waiting.
> 
> New response readied, the android said, “Well-” but then stopped, suddenly incapable of speech. La Forge was smiling now, mirth tugging gently at the corner of his full lips. His complexion was the darkest Data had seen onboard the ship amongst the humans. His visage was striking, although Data wasn’t sure the red of the command track uniform complimented him well. 
> 
> “Others…” He tried to rectify, but once more terminated that particular line of dialogue and closed his mouth, breathed so he’d have an excuse for leaving his mouth open so unattractively for such a prolonged period of time, and-
> 
> And La Forge took a step closer, taking away the space Data had carefully allowed to exist between them. 
> 
> Chin tipped upwards and lips now downturned in a frown, he asked, “Data? Sir? Earth to Data? Did I… break you? What’d I say?” 
> 
> Data suspected that Lt. La Forge would be upset by the possibility of having harmed him. He rushed to clarify, “You have not broken me. In response to your query: I suppose you would not speak to me as you would everyone else if you harbored the same bias towards inorganic sentient life forms such as-”
> 
> “Data! Data, Data, it was a rhetorical question! I just meant there’s no reason for me to treat you any differently.” 
> 
> Data stopped. “I see,” he said. He accessed his dictionary and also made a mental note to run a diagnostic on his speech processors later. “A question formed without the expectation of an answer, often used to prove a point or add effect.” 
> 
> Geordi La Forge smiled, and Data was glad to see him display pleasure, even if he was unsure of its cause. The conn officer resumed his trek to the turbolift, and Data followed suit. 
> 
> On the way, La Forge turned his head to look over his shoulder when he heard himself being followed, “You on Bridge duty too?” 
> 
> “Yes.” Data said, and quickened his gait to walk beside him as they neared the turbolift. 
> 
> They stepped inside the lift and simultaneously commanded, “Computer, Bridge.” 
> 
> The lieutenant offered him a sheepish smile when the lift began to move. 
> 
> “Sorry to cut you off earlier. I ask the computer rhetorical questions all the time, too. Don’t I, Computer?” 
> 
> Above their heads, the computer spoke up, _“Please repeat your query.”_
> 
> Geordi shook his head and laughed. “Nevermind.” 
> 
> Data nodded. He turned his body to face his human crewmate and opened his mouth. “Inquiry: Earth to Data?” 
> 
> And so it went.
> 
> 2.
> 
> The second clue was a sudden state of hyper-awareness. Data’s sensors always registered his surroundings carefully, and he catalogued the inhabitants of a room at the moment of his entry—most commonly on the Bridge. Captain Picard, at the helm. Commander Riker, seated at his side. Deanna Troi to the left. Tasha Yar, and then later Worf at tactical. Sometimes Miles O’Brien was there, or Dr. Pulaski (replacing Dr. Crusher). Others stood at their various posts, such as Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Clancy, or Gibson. Data’s own spot was at ops, and to his right at the conn-
> 
> Geordi, upon promotion replaced by acting Ensign Wesley Crusher.
> 
> The hyper-awareness centered around a change in ambience brought on by Geordi’s absence. When he brought this phenomenon up with Counselor Troi, she smiled and told him he missed him. After his initial reaction of doubt, the counselor helped him reconcile with the validity of her diagnosis. He missed him. He had grown accustomed to Geordi’s presence on the Bridge and so he missed him, in his own fashion. What he couldn’t understand was why. He was ‘glad’ for his friend, content as he seemed down in Engineering. 
> 
> It very well could be that he missed him nevertheless. Perhaps it was a personal experience that had little to do with the influence of others, not unlike what happened with Tasha, or his memory of Lore and the Crystal Entity.
> 
> But Data suspected that wasn’t the case. Geordi was alive after all, working only a few decks away. 
> 
> And so the android put his confusion aside as he usually did, and he followed steps to rectify his mental state of being. His solution saw him spending more time down in Engineering than previously logged in his off-duty hours. And on-duty. Working under the captain’s orders, Data found himself standing at Geordi’s side often, whereupon he found himself accosted by another aspect of his hyper-awareness of Geordi. Specifically, his hyper-awareness of Geordi’s proximity to himself.
> 
> 3.
> 
> Or, to further the accuracy of his plight: Geordi’s proximity to himself that was of Data’s own design. 
> 
> Data found that if he maintained an average of ten centimeters between himself and the engineer, Geordi didn’t step away or complain about ‘personal space’ as so many of the other workers onboard the Enterprise did. In fact, oftentimes Geordi _decreased_ that distance, sometimes closing it completely so that his shoulder was pressed against Data’s deltoid. 
> 
> Data was unaccustomed to physical touch. Most offered him space, usually a surplus of it. Geordi was the only one, save perhaps the captain and his first officer, to clap a hand to the second officer’s back in a show of camaraderie. But Picard and Riker were seldom to make such displays. Counselor Troi touched him to show support. Dr. Crusher to show concern. Worf didn’t touch anyone unless he aimed to fight. And although Wesley considered him a friend, Data was aware that their difference in rank made the boy more reserved than he was with ensigns closer to his own age. 
> 
> But Geordi was tactile. His hands were deft and clever, and his personality was kind, open, and considerate. The senses heightened by his lack of traditional sight meant that he took on challenges whole-bodiedly; burying himself down to the waist in a service duct to reach a servo panel, or using every limb available to keep his engines from falling apart during repairs. 
> 
> Geordi had no qualms leaning into Data’s side as they stood together staring at a computer screen, trying to make sense of some convoluted circuitry failure. Data could anticipate Geordi’s hand coming to land on his forearm if he needed to catch his breath on an away mission. The solid bulk of Geordi’s back against his own when they were in foreign territory and under fire was as familiar as the weight of Geordi’s hand on his shoulder when they both leaned over the science station on the Bridge. 
> 
> Data observed that Geordi behaved similarly with his engineering team. And with Commander Riker, who was a long-time friend of his. But based on his observations, Data calculated that Geordi touched him at a rate that was twenty-five percent higher than the rest of their crewmates’. 
> 
> He didn’t know what that meant, if it meant anything at all. 
> 
> Nevertheless, Data concluded that if he stood within touching distance (ten centimeters), the odds were in his favor that Geordi would initiate physical contact. 
> 
> More often than not, his gamble paid off. 
> 
> But sometimes Data speculated that his friend’s lack of traditional sight was what allowed for them to be so close. Without a basis for comparison, Geordi was unable to form biases on physical appearance. And whilst Data knew Geordi wasn’t the type to hold prejudices, he couldn’t help but wonder. 
> 
> It was a thought he had often enough that Data eventually sought to take his suspicions out of the hypothetical.
> 
> So one day, when Data watched a pair of ensigns walk into the engine room and noted they bent their heads together and whispered conspiratorially the moment they caught sight of their Second Officer and the Chief Engineer joined at the hip by the center table, he made to ask his question. 
> 
> “Geordi, may I make a personal query?” 
> 
> Without looking away from the blinking lights of the controls beneath his fingers, Geordi said: “Go for it.” 
> 
> “What do you make of my appearance?” 
> 
> His question startled a reaction out of his friend. Geordi did a double take, but the shock on his face quickly morphed into a more typical smile as he considered his answer. 
> 
> “Data! Are you asking me if I think you’re handsome? Because I don’t think I need to remind you that-” he waved his hand in front of his own face, “I can’t exactly tell, not in the traditional sense.” 
> 
> “I am simply curious as to how you perceive me with your VISOR.” 
> 
> “Oh. Then you are.” 
> 
> “I-” Data’s mouth remained open for three seconds without any sound forthcoming. Geordi chuckled, and Data watched in rapt attention how the single expression of emotion (mirth) was displayed in the way he shook his head with his shoulders curled in. 
> 
> “I am?” He asked, and Geordi laughed harder.
> 
> “Most people look—” He wiggled his fingers in the direction of a couple of officers checking the warp coils across from them. “—kinda fuzzy.” The Chief Engineer abandoned his task to turn and face his friend, pressing a hip to the table to hold his tricorder in place and free his hands. “I can make out shapes, I could tell how many fingers Ensign Tran now has even before I read the report about what happened down on Erat 4. I can read because my Visor picks up the contrast between the characters and a backlit screen. Metals, machines, rock—nonliving organisms are always easier for me to see. They’re more vibrant—less complicated. Made up of higher concentrations of the same element. So if you asked me if Deanna’s beautiful, I’d say yes just based on word of mouth and my own judgement of her personality. All I know for sure is that she’s got really dark eyes and really big hair.” 
> 
> “But you,” Geordi went on, and for some reason, Data chose to hold his breath. “You glow.” 
> 
> Data kept quiet, kept still. Geordi kept going.
> 
> “When I first saw you during that mess at Farpoint, I thought…” He gave a sheepish little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck, “I thought I was looking at a star. A humanoid star. Almost like an…” 
> 
> Data waited patiently for exactly seven seconds of silence before requesting elaboration. “Almost like a what?”
> 
> “Nevermind.” Geordi picked up his tricorder and spoke with his head ducked down, carefully looking away from Data. “Point is, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And you’re just as handsome now as you were then.” 
> 
> “Thank you. You too remain as aesthetically pleasing as the first day we met.” 
> 
> Geordi’s smile widened at that. He gave a low whistle and chuckled heartily. 
> 
> “Now that’s one heck of a line! But you may want to save that one for someone special, Data.”
> 
> Data nodded seriously and logged the suggestion away for future access. Obviously, Geordi didn’t consider himself to be ‘special’ enough for such statements. Data wasn’t sure he agreed, but he trusted Geordi’s judgement in such things.
> 
> 6.
> 
> As a result of his programming, Data was a creature of habit. He formed preferences based on positive repeated experiences, and thus he accepted Riker’s offer at a game of poker whenever the invitation was extended. The rest of the command crew alternated, but he and Riker were a constant in their evening games. 
> 
> Poker was a game of masking emotion. Data thought that perhaps the fact that he had no emotions would give him an unfair advantage.
> 
> His assumption was wildly incorrect. 
> 
> After a few nights of failures Riker handed Data a cap, assigned him the position of dealer, and then offered what he called ‘a few pointers’. 
> 
> “You’re more expressive than you think you are, Data. You’ve got your tells.” Riker informed him over a glass of synthale. 
> 
> Data frowned as he shuffled the deck of cards rapidly. The rest of the table watched in awe at the blur of movement. “You believe that I easily express emotion. I do not have emotions.” 
> 
> “Maybe. But you have the characteristics of a human face, and human faces are expressive almost as a default.” Counselor Troi interjected. Dr. Crusher nodded from the seat next to hers. 
> 
> The doctor leaned forward and rested her crossed arms on the table. “You may not _feel,_ but you do have likes and dislikes in the form of preferences and… oh, how do you say it? Established familiarities?” 
> 
> Data nodded. Then he paused thoughtfully. “I still fail to see these ‘tells’ to which you are referring.” 
> 
> Riker yelled out a loud “Aha!”, and pointed directly at him. 
> 
> “When Pulaski was still around, your frown would stiffen whenever she entered the room.” Riker recalled. He stretched his arms up overhead and Troi reached a hand over to tug his shirt back down neatly. “And you straighten up in your seat whenever the Captain calls for ops.”
> 
> “Your brow creases whenever someone mentions a dislike for cats.” Troi offered.
> 
> “When you’re confused, your head twitches. You blink fast when it takes you longer than a second to process new information.” 
> 
> “You perk up whenever you hear Geordi’s voice.” Crusher added helpfully.
> 
> “You call Geordi _Geordi._ That’s a tell if ever I heard one.” Riker smirked and shifted sideways in his seat.
> 
> Data took in and carefully considered their points. Such reactions were automatic and programmed to be organic. To emulate human expression to compensate for his own lack of feeling. 
> 
> He neglected to acknowledge that last comment. 
> 
> “In the Academy, I was often told I was unapproachable and difficult to read. I assumed it was because of my lack of expression. I see now that was not the truth.” 
> 
> The three faces across from him fell almost simultaneously, and then rallied one by one. 
> 
> The counselor was the one to break the short silence. “Data, the truth is that they failed to put in the little time and effort it takes to get to know you. What you can do now is use this knowledge to perceive the world around you. To get a better understanding of yourself and your interactions with others.” 
> 
> Thus the game continued, and Data began to pay closer attention to his friends’ ‘tells’.
> 
> What he concluded was that Riker clenched his jaw whenever his hand wasn’t salvageable, Troi’s pleasant smile was infallible but her tapping feet gave her away, and that Dr. Crusher’s poker face was as good as her bedside manner. 
> 
> After a few hours spent in front of a mirror off-shift in the dead of night, Data began to log all his facial reactions. He was looking forward to the next day and planned to notice all the little ways that humans expressed with their bodies what they didn’t say in Federation Standard. 
> 
> At 0700, Data walked into Ten Forward and logged that although Guinan seemed outwardly friendly at such an early hour, her twitching fingers meant she still lacked sleep or stimulants. He went to watch Worf update the security team and noticed how the stiff line of his back softened once his officers turned their backs and headed off to their posts. Keiko O’Brien kissed her husband goodbye at their doorway, and the transporter officer looked over his shoulder at the closed door as long as the curving hallway allowed him. Captain Picard hid his eyes behind his hand once his patience reached its limit. Wesley Crusher bounced in his seat in a charming display of youth whenever he was given a new assignment. 
> 
> In the middle of the day, the captain called for a senior staff meeting in the observation lounge. Data, as always, saved the seat next to his for the Chief Engineer. Having to come all the way up from Main Engineering, Geordi was often the last to arrive. To account for his sight, Data made sure he was always closest to the screen and the speaker. 
> 
> The turbolift opened and deposited Worf, and behind him just out of sight, Geordi. Data scooted to one side as Geordi went for his seat and noticed two things: 
> 
> One: Geordi greeted everyone with a nod and a smile. But as he reached Data, he clasped a hand on his shoulder and ducked his head to whisper, “Hey Data. Thanks,” in his ear. 
> 
> Two: Geordi immediately took the chair Data had saved for him and moved it twelve centimeters towards Data around the sparsely populated table. When he sat, their shoulders were pressed together. 
> 
> Before Captain Picard could begin his report, Geordi shot Data a quick grin and then looked to the head of the table. Data sought out Riker seated at the table’s end and saw that the first officer was looking right at him. His blue eyes moved between him and the engineer pressed against him. His mouth silently formed a single word that Data didn’t catch, but Data replayed that memory as he turned and faced forward to pay the Captain his attention. 
> 
> After twelve seconds of consideration, he concluded that Riker had whispered, “Tell.”
> 
> 10.
> 
> There was an incident that occurred during an alien program’s attempt at rewriting the Enterprise’s software to match its own, in which Data experienced a short episode of confused arm movements when an electric discharge endangered Geordi and caused Data to yank him towards safety using a badly calculated amount of force. His overcompensation resulted in Geordi being thrown clear across the room, followed by four seconds during which Data faltered between the options of hurrying over to check that the engineer hadn’t come to any harm, or dealing with the errant program wreaking havoc on the ship’s automated systems. 
> 
> Despite all evidence to emergency protocols and Data’s prioritization programming, Geordi won out.
> 
> 27.
> 
> Data experienced a distinct dissatisfaction with the holodeck’s rendition of John Watson. He made a future note to wait for Geordi to come off-duty.
> 
> 64.
> 
> Curiosity and inquisitiveness were two of Data’s key character traits. Data was used to being curious, and sure of his techniques for performing experiments. Usually his curiosity was of a scientific nature, or a social one. But one particular curiosity, initially born of his brief encounter with Tasha Yar concerning his sexuality programming, had him stuck with no outlet.
> 
> After a game of poker in his quarters, he took Geordi up on his offer to help clean up after the others had already gone. Geordi bustled about, making loud but (mostly?) empty complaints about tripping over Spot and breaking his neck. 
> 
> Data assured his friend that was most unlikely, and stated the odds (twenty-eight to one), which caused Geordi to laugh and announce his intent to leave for bed by grasping Data’s shoulder and giving him a friendly little shake. 
> 
> Data bid his friend goodnight, and Geordi’s hand trailed down from the android’s uniform-clad shoulder over to the back of his hand before pulling up and away. Data watched his friend stretch his arms over his head in a loud and lengthy yawn, and wondered if the prowess of his programming was limited to female partners. He had no way of knowing until testing it. The routines were labeled generically and without gendered specification. 
> 
> The curiosity went from benign to suddenly rife with intensity when his friend looked over his shoulder to shoot Data a toothy grin right before the door slid closed behind him. 
> 
> Then just like that, it ebbed. 
> 
> He was curious. But they were friends—and being friends, by Data’s understanding, made such a scenario incredibly unlikely. (His odds were forty-eight to one.)
> 
> Data paused and examined his thought. Then he corrected it. 
> 
> _The_ odds, not his.
> 
> 102.
> 
> The worst had nothing to do with Geordi at all.
> 
> “You won't hurt me.” Fajo informed him matter-of-factly. Goading him. “‘ _Fundamental respect for all living beings.’_ That is what you said. I'm a living being, therefore you can't harm me.”
> 
> Data responded as any good Starfleet officer would. 
> 
> “You will surrender yourself to the authorities.” 
> 
> “Or what? You'll fire? Empty threat and we both know it.” Data lowered the disruptor and Fajo changed his tone, softening it slightly to no doubt try and appeal to Data’s nonexistent better nature. “Why don't you accept your fate? You will return to your chair and you will sit there. You will entertain me and you will entertain my guests. And if you do not, I will simply kill somebody else.” 
> 
> Fajo looked around them and gestured casually at one of the ship’s crew that had stumbled onto the scene. “Him, perhaps. It doesn't matter. Their blood will be on your hands too, just like poor Varria's. Your only alternative, Data, is to fire. Murder me.” No regard for life. “That's all you have to do. Go ahead. Fire.” Self-assured. Imperious. 
> 
> “If only you could feel rage over Varria's death. If only you could feel the need for revenge, then maybe you could fire. But you're just an android. You can't feel anything, can you? It's just another interesting intellectual puzzle for you. Another of life's curiosities.”
> 
> The contempt Kivas Fajo held for the worth of any life that did not benefit his own was clear. He would not stop. Varria, broken and scattered on the floor beside them, was just one victim out of many. But Fajo was correct. It went against Data’s programming to supercede Federation law and take the mantle of judge, jury, and executioner for himself. Fajo, smug and arrogant as he was, was correct. 
> 
> But a human phrase came to mind. One often used by Commander Riker. ‘ _Don’t give them the satisfaction.’_
> 
> “I cannot permit this to continue.” He said, and he raised the disruptor once more. 
> 
> Fajo froze, “Wait. Your program won't allow you to fire.” 
> 
> Data repositioned his wrist, turned the weapon thirteen degrees to the right, aimed it directly at his target’s chest. 
> 
> “You cannot fire. No!”
> 
> He squeezed the trigger.
> 
> His sensors detected the pull of a transporter beam, and then he was no longer standing onboard the Jovis. He was standing on the pad of the Enterprise’s Transporter Room 3, right across from Commander Riker, who welcomed him warmly. 
> 
> “Welcome back, Mister Data.” His tone was even, and his mouth smiling. Behind the transporter controls, Mr. O’Brien mirrored the smile. Nevertheless Data thought he could spot tension pulling at both their eyes. 
> 
> “Are you alright?” Commander Riker asked.
> 
> He was functioning within… abnormal parameters. But that wasn’t the answer the commander hoped to hear. 
> 
> “Yes, Commander.” Data stepped off the transformer pad and addressed both Riker and O’Brien. “Please arrange to take Kivas Fajo into custody on charges of murder, kidnapping, theft.” 
> 
> He failed to include an ‘and’ in his sentence. Data could only hope Riker wouldn’t notice his mistake and read how… disconcerted he truly was. The first officer sent his second officer up to the Bridge to report to their ship’s captain, and Data readily complied with the order. He didn’t wait to see Fajo taken into custody. He had faith in the commander and Worf’s security team. 
> 
> Data allowed himself a moment in the turbolift to haltingly stroke the lift’s walls in affirmation that he was indeed once more aboard the Enterprise. Physical touch was added to his file of evidence, and then the doors slid open to reveal the command center. 
> 
> “Mr. Data.” Captain Picard was smiling at him from his chair, and Data kept his face carefully blank. “We’re glad to have you back. You gave us quite the scare, you know.”
> 
> “Captain.” 
> 
> “Join me in my ready room.” And Data did just that, trailing behind the man at a slow pace until the ready room’s door closed off the view of the Bridge. The captain offered him a drink as was his custom, and Data refused as was his. Tea in hand, Picard sat behind his desk and gestured to the chair across from him.
> 
> “Sit, please.” 
> 
> Data was unfortunately reminded of a similar and more sinister command. 
> 
> “I would prefer to stand, Captain.”
> 
> That gave the captain pause. But he nodded and accepted his preference, moving on. 
> 
> “Commander Riker tells me the transporter sensors recorded a weapon fired in the beam.”
> 
> “Yes sir. It was concluded there must be some kind of fault within the sensors.” 
> 
> The captain stirred his tea and regarded him carefully. 
> 
> “That.”
> 
> “Pardon?” 
> 
> “It was concluded _that_ there must be some kind of fault within the sensors.” The captain picked up on his faulty speech, what’s more, he commented on it. 
> 
> “Yes sir.” Was all Data could think to reply. 
> 
> Picard’s eyes always saw more than Data’s ever could. Those eyes appraised him for a further 8.4 seconds, and then Data was dismissed with strict orders to return to his room and rest. Data promised to have his report ready by 2000 hours. 
> 
> He wouldn’t say he _rushed_ to his quarters, he just… 
> 
> He just really… 
> 
> Spot had been without supervision for an inexcusable amount of time. Data was her caretaker. He made haste. 
> 
> Yet when his door closed behind him and Data did a visual pass for heat signatures, Spot was nowhere to be found. His paintings were gone as well, as were a few of his personal effects. Kneeling by his work station, Data processed the fact that his crewmates had thought him dead. And although he knew that cats didn’t have the mental capacity to understand speech, he’d hate to think that Spot thought herself abandoned. 
> 
> “Spot?” Data called out, not in hope that she would appear, but in general inquiry.
> 
> His door chimed in answer. 
> 
> “Enter.” He looked up to see who stood behind the door. 
> 
> He saw Geordi, expression shifting too quickly for Data to settle on a conclusion as to his emotional condition. In his arms were an assortment of Data’s personal effects. Data stood and walked over to receive his guest, his best friend, and he noticed that his processors slowed at the sight of his familiar face. 
> 
> A face that finally settled on cautious joy, but if he didn’t move soon the door’s sensors would label him idle and shut him out of Data’s view. 
> 
> “Do come in.” Data offered. Geordi snapped out of it. 
> 
> He stepped forward and let the door close in his wake. “They didn’t want to believe me. I- I couldn’t sleep, they...” The items in his arms were deposited on an empty shelf and Geordi all but backed Data against the wall as he took fistfuls of replicated satin, “They told me you were gone.”
> 
> Data was actually taken by surprise. He had to crane his neck down to look at Geordi, whose face was now pressed softly against his chest. “Fajo is a very good liar and he set the stage well. I am sure my death was very believable.”
> 
> “I believed it too. At least until… Wh- Data. What are you wearing?” The warmth of his forehead disappeared when Geordi took a step back and smoothed down his clothing. Data almost asked him to return. “Where’s your uniform?”
> 
> A simple answer. “Fajo destroyed it.” 
> 
> “He did _what?”_
> 
> “He used a solvent of something called ‘denkirs’ to dissolve my uniform and coerce me into wearing this,” He gestured down at his purple attire, “which he had laid out for me.” 
> 
> “He…” Geordi looked marginally unwell. His mouth was puckered in such a way that Data identified his current state as one of ‘disgust’ or ‘nausea’. “He violated you?” 
> 
> “Yes, I do suppose it fits the definition. Although I do not have a sense of what you would call ‘modesty’, I am programmed to find nonessential nudity untoward. Geordi? Where is Spot?”
> 
> “The Doc has her. She said she was due for a vaccination before we set up some sort of foster care, Data are… Are you okay?”
> 
> “I am functional.” 
> 
> “That doesn’t…” His friend visibly swallowed his words. Data’s eyes followed the movement down his throat until his gaze settled on the rise and fall of his chest. Data remembered to mimic breathing himself. 
> 
> The Chief Engineer cleared his throat and strode with purpose to the replicator tucked into the wall of Data’s quarters. He asked the computer to provide a golden operations uniform, standard issue, in Data’s size. It phased into being and Geordi deftly took it in his hands and went to set it down on Data’s desk. He didn’t make to move close to Data again, standing his ground those few feet away as if to rouse himself from whatever spiral his mind had fallen down. 
> 
> Tentatively, Geordi tried again. “They have him in custody. You don’t have to… go. But I’ll accompany you, if you want me to.”
> 
> “No,” Data said too quickly, and Geordi took three steps forward to look at him closely. 
> 
> “No.” Geordi agreed easily. “Alright. I’ll uh… I’ll go get Spot. She’ll be here when you get back.”
> 
> The human didn’t say it directly, but nevertheless the android understood the offer hidden in his words. Or at least, he thought he did. Data’s inferences when it came to implied meanings were subpar to say the least. 
> 
> “And yourself?” Data asked, just to check. 
> 
> Geordi smiled, and this time Data believed the gesture reached his eyes. “I’ll be here too.”
> 
> 118.
> 
> On one occasion, his hearing processors failed completely despite suffering no damage. 
> 
> They sat on a shuttlecraft facing the yawning expanse of the universe. The stars shone, full, bright. Full of life, but Data knew that some of those lights had long since gone out.
> 
> “Ensign Ro Laren was too young,” said Riker. Data heard, he nodded. The gesture was done on auto-pilot, one learned from crewmates completely out of their depth. He heard, but he didn’t process. There was no precedent to learn from, and there was definitely no behavior coded in his matrices for a loss like the one Data faced. 
> 
> “You have to say goodbye, Data.” Riker said, and Data tried to listen. But Riker’s words of consolation (grief?) held no instructions. 
> 
> Data wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t hear. 
> 
> He did not know how to say goodbye to the first friend he’d ever had.
> 
> 119.
> 
> Geordi was alive. 
> 
> He was standing right there, arms clasped around the Ensign Ro in a desperate and happy embrace. Their ingenuity saved them, and they laughed in delight at their accomplishment.
> 
> Geordi was alive. Data could see and hear him in more than just his replayed memories.
> 
> Data stepped forward. Geordi’s smile widened, and he released Ensign Ro from their embrace. Then his hand was reaching for yellow, and Data registered an increase of warmth all along his front and across the small of his back. 
> 
> Tentatively, he brought a hand to rest against the back of Geordi’s neck. 
> 
> Suddenly, Data understood Geordi’s proclivity towards touching him after he himself ‘returned from the dead’. He too found that simple visual and audio confirmation left much to be desired.
> 
> 125.
> 
> Data was in Ten Forward. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was there, but Guinan had told him to come because she wanted to discuss (gossip about) Geordi’s recent behavior. Seeing as Data was also put off by his sudden ‘cold shoulder’, he acquiesced. Thus Guinan gave him a drink he could not drink and let him endure his own social incompetence whilst she tended to a sudden onslaught of customers. At low tide, she crooked a finger at him and beckoned him towards the bar. He did as bid and she leaned over the counter to whisper in his ear. 
> 
> “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was jealous.” To keep up appearances, she picked a bottle at seemingly random and began to polish it. 
> 
> “Jealous?” Data asked, loudly. Guinan shushed him, and Data lowered his volume to thirty decibels. “Why? Of whom?” 
> 
> She shoved at his shoulder, seemingly dissatisfied with his attempt at a conspiratorial air. “Of the interest she displayed in you! And you in her.” 
> 
> Now that was a phrase that caused concern. Data had had quite enough with being unintentionally misleading. He thought he’d learned and grown past that. He would have to rectify the confusion immediately. 
> 
> “My interest in Dr. Farallon’s particle fountain design and the exocomps does not extend to the doctor herself.”
> 
> “Perhaps.” Perhaps. Guinan tipped the bottle at him and looked him up and down with her warm brown eyes. “But her interest in your positronic network definitely extends to the rest of you.” 
> 
> Around them, Ten Forward was loud and raucous. Worf was engaging in an arm wrestling competition with Riker, much to the amusement of a gaggle of security and command officers and ensigns. Synthale sloshed from clinking glasses, arms wrapped around shoulders in friendly off-the-clock embraces. Heads were bent together at tables, murmuring things even Data couldn’t strain to hear over the din. The atmosphere was as it often was: one of merriment and intrigue. Data likened Guinan to her place of profession. 
> 
> “I see.” He paused, took a breath, looked up at Guinan through his lashes and asked somewhat meekly, “That is… unfortunate. Do you believe I should ‘let her down gently’?”
> 
> She laughed, but Data knew it wasn’t unkind. “Data, the woman hasn’t even made a move! You may not need to. Give it a bit more time.”
> 
> Data deliberated, “Then, should I… assure Geordi that her interest is not reciprocated?” 
> 
> “I guess it’s worth a shot. But…” She smiled and gave him a look that Data would classify as ’apologetic’. “I don’t know, Data. It may do more harm than good if he’s _not_ jealous.”
> 
> Data frowned. The intricacies of negative human emotions escaped him further than the positive ones. He watched Guinan polish the bottle’s neck as he thought. 
> 
> “I do not understand why you would bring up the possibility if you do not believe it is also probable.” 
> 
> “It’d be easier to read him if he ran as hot as the other hotheads around here. But whereas he’s loud and… _indelicate_ with his target lady friends…. Well Data, let’s just say you didn’t see the looks he gave you when you were going steady with Jenna.” 
> 
> “Lieutenant D’Sora?” 
> 
> “The very one.” 
> 
> That gave Data pause. He quickly accessed his memory bank for any interactions shared with Geordi in that time period. He found no behavior out of the ordinary for his best friend, if anything, he displayed a shortness in temper attributed to the stress of his post. Data must have simply caught him at a bad time when he went to ask about behavior protocols to add to his romance--
> 
> _Oh._
> 
> Interesting.
> 
> 129.
> 
> “I wonder...” said Julian Bashir, and in the short time he’d been in his acquaintance Data knew enough to pay the mad doctor his utmost attention, “I wonder if perhaps Dr. Soong didn’t intend for you to grow just as we do into ourselves, only… well, as an android does, I suppose.”
> 
> “I am unsure of what you mean.” Data said. Dr. Bashir smiled, eyes crinkling and even _shining_ a bit in a way that reminded Data of a playful child. Main Engineering was all but empty around them, brought down to a skeletal staff during gamma shift. The doctor waved off Geordi’s concerns as the Chief Engineer went to bed, citing a doctor’s predisposition to late nights and earlier mornings. They were left alone to further ponder the nature of Data’s new ‘dream’. 
> 
> “What I mean is that you, Mr. Data, are a species of one. There’s no telling what your learning curve looks like! One day you may grow emotions just like you grow hair!”
> 
> Data frowned as he considered it. Then he nodded when he calculated the statement’s validity. 
> 
> “It is possible.” 
> 
> “Then it is possible that you may have already experienced what we humans call feelings. Perhaps in physical tells?” He pulled one of the chairs around the central controls and sat in it backwards. “Tell me Data, have you had any heart palpitations?” 
> 
> “Heart palpitations?” Data repeated.
> 
> “That’s a ‘no’ then. Ever felt your breath be taken away?”
> 
> “Not that I recall.”
> 
> “Been tongue-tied?” 
> 
> “I do not think my tongue is capable of-” 
> 
> The doctor’s eyes softened. “Data, I’m asking if you’ve ever been in love.”
> 
> “I-” Data’s first instinct was to deny it. But for the sake of the doctor’s investigation, Data decided that considering his question carefully would provide a better insight to the situation.
> 
> The easiest way to go about it would be to break it down. What is love? In humans, love was a concoction of chemicals: Lust was caused by the hypothalamus’ production of testosterone or estrogen. Attraction was the result of a heady mixture of dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin. Attachment was formed with the help of oxytocin and vasopressin. Perhaps the ‘true love’ often mentioned in works of fiction and its symptoms were a combination of the three. Electric signals sent by the brain to manifest reactions such as a ‘racing heartbeat’ or ‘sweaty palms’ or ‘butterflies in the stomach’.
> 
> Of the three categories, Data supposed attachment and lust were the two he best understood. Due to his intoxication during the polywater incident, he’d experienced a strange approximation of lust. He was accustomed to the Enterprise and its crew. It wouldn’t be hyperbole to label it attachment. But attraction… 
> 
> Both attraction and attachment were maintained by the presence of affection. Where did affection come into play?
> 
> It must be that the three categories branched off further. 
> 
> In relation were the four Greek definitions: agápe, éros, philía, and storgē. But the ancient Greeks didn’t hold a monopoly on the philosophy of romance. Cultures the galaxy over had their own studies and definitions of love. History lent itself to draw different conclusions from the same biological events. And that didn’t take into account individual perceptions, works of art, grand gestures and monuments dedicated to what was documented as being one of the strongest driving forces in sentient life. 
> 
> What is love? The answer seemed to depend on whom the query was made out to. 
> 
> Or, taking into consideration a popular ballad from the Earth’s twentieth century, perhaps the answer to the age-old question was simply: Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more. 
> 
> “I do not know.” He settled on truthfully. Dr. Bashir hummed. 
> 
> “Well, let me ask you another way. Do you have anyone you care for?” 
> 
> Well at least that was simple. “I ‘care’ for all members of the crew.” 
> 
> “Yes, and as a Starfleet doctor, so do I. But on a more personal level: Who is most important?” 
> 
> “...Captain Picard.” 
> 
> The doctor stared at him. “Is that Lt. Commander Data speaking, or Data Soong?” 
> 
> “I do not see the difference.” 
> 
> “One exists whilst wearing the combadge, the other isn’t dependent on the assignation of rank. We’re off duty, Data. Pretend you no longer wear the uniform. Who’s most important to you?”
> 
> “...The answer in this hypothetical would be Geordi La Forge.” 
> 
> The doctor’s smile broadened. “I see.” He said. “And why is that?” 
> 
> “This hypothetical takes place in the future. If I were to project past my involvement in Starfleet, then in my ‘retirement’ I can only see myself with one person, and that person is Geordi.” 
> 
> “But why?” The doctor was insistent. 
> 
> “He…” Data paused. He considered replying with numbers, data, calculations of compatibility, evidence drawn from past experiences. Humans in general found it taxing to coexist with him because of his nature. In passing, in easy friendships, perhaps. But Data was self-aware, and knew that to impose himself on someone wouldn’t sit well with just anyone. 
> 
> “He is the only one who would have me.” Data said, and at Bashir’s sad eyes, rushed to add, “And I would only have him.”
> 
> 131.
> 
> For all his talk about _tells,_ Riker would be beside himself if he saw Data now. 
> 
> Data sat behind his desk, placing at least that barrier of protection between himself and the good man he had nearly… done the unthinkable to.
> 
> Geordi stood, looking down at Data in his own quarters. They’d found themselves in this position numerous times before, but now it felt different. It felt new, but not in a good way. Data figured that his worldview had shifted too drastically to view the natural setting as commonplace. It couldn’t be commonplace, not when Geordi was newly released from medbay because of _him._
> 
> Of course, the fault also lay with his brother Lore. Lore was many things, to Data. Family. Danger. An enemy. A warning. A self-fulfilling prophecy, if one were to believe in the use of such figures of speech. 
> 
> Lore had nearly cost Data the little bit of humanity he had managed to build for himself by way of his own ethical programming. And if it hadn’t been for his real family’s intervention, Geordi would be dead: by Data’s hand, no less.
> 
> Riker said he had a tell. Dr. Bashir said Data was a species of one, meant to learn and grow outside anyone’s understanding. Data understood, now. His dearest wish was to be human, but he was coming to terms with the fact that humanity, for him, came at much too high a cost. Humanity was not worth its risks. 
> 
> “Does it work?” _Geordi_ asked, visor intent on the small triangular chip Data held carefully between the grip of a pair of tweezers.
> 
> “No.” Data affirmed, “I am pleased to say it was damaged when I was forced to fire on Lore.”
> 
> Geordi followed the motion of Data’s hand, enclosing the chip in a small box. “Pleased? Data, you've wanted emotions all your life!”
> 
> “Yes. But emotions were responsible for what I did to you.” The box locked with a soft _click,_ and Data reached for the phaser he’d prepared for the moment. “I would never risk letting that happen again. My friendship with you is too important to me.”
> 
> As he adjusted the phaser’s setting, he saw a flash of brown and gold reach for the enclosed emotion chip, then pull back just as quickly. Data looked up, perplexed. He found Geordi smiling. 
> 
> “Data, I wouldn't be very much of a friend if I let you give up on a life-long dream, would I?”
> 
> Data didn’t know what to say. Geordi, ever wonderful _Geordi,_ didn’t press.
> 
> “Maybe someday, when you're ready.”
> 
> Data said his name. He couldn’t manage to utter anything else in that moment. His thoughts had almost… ground to a halt. “Geordi.” _A tell._
> 
> “I mean it, Data.” Geordi waved the box slowly, emphasizing his promise. His word, to safeguard Data’s heart before it would even get another chance to be reinstalled. Data found that perhaps he should form another study on himself. Perhaps emotion did indeed grow like hair.
> 
> 140.
> 
> Geordi was no Vulcan, but he also wasn’t Betazoid. He wasn’t ruled by logic _or_ emotion, but a healthy combination of the two. He very rarely let one overpower the other, and in all the time Data had known him, he’d known Geordi to at least try to keep a level head. 
> 
> But Data also knew that family ties between humans in particular had the tendency of making them abandon rationality. 
> 
> He’d never seen Geordi so desperate.
> 
> “If that's what you need to do, Data, then do it. Because nothing short of that is going to stop me from trying to save my mother.” Geordi said, and Data found himself at a loss.
> 
> The loss was that Data was not more conflicted. In fact, he wasn’t conflicted at all. He knew Geordi would complete this mission with or without him. It was in his safety’s best interest that Data cooperate and help see him through the ordeal. 
> 
> So he moved. He walked to the interface monitor and heard Geordi speak up softly from just behind him. 
> 
> “What are you doing?”
> 
> This action would put them both at risk of discipline, but Data valued Geordi’s life over the loss of status. Data had already experienced what he thought was Geordi’s death when he and Ensign Ro shifted out of phase. He wasn’t willing to endure that again. 
> 
> So he said, “I will monitor the interface and attempt to keep you safe. I cannot have you confined to quarters for something you have not yet done.”
> 
> Geordi didn’t look like he believed him. “You know we could both get in a lot of trouble for this.”
> 
> Yes. 
> 
> “There is a high degree of probability that you are correct.”
> 
> “...Thanks, Data.”
> 
> 158.
> 
> Spot didn’t like Geordi, and Data spent an inordinate amount of time trying to devise a way to rectify the issue despite Geordi’s amused assurances that he’d never been any good with animals anyway. 
> 
> “Why don’t you just ask Reg?” Geordi suggested from his position standing (hiding) behind the couch in Data’s quarters before Data left to participate in a mission to retrieve a runaway torpedo with Captain Picard. 
> 
> Because Data didn’t want to. That would be contrary to what Data was trying to achieve. “I cannot assume Lt. Barclay will always be available to aid me by providing cat-sitting duties. Spot must acclimate herself to at least one other crew member, and you are both adaptable and capable.”
> 
> “A-adaptable? I mean yeah, give me a warp coil or a finicky datapad any day,” Geordi took a cautious step back from a very pregnant Spot, who was hissing in Data’s outstretched grasp. “But a living creature doesn’t exactly fit my bill, you know?”
> 
> Data gathered Spot into his arms and carressed her head as he catalogued through the contents of his quarters. “I am afraid I do not have a warp coil readily available. But I do have a few datapads, I could check them for malfunctions if you would give me a momen- 

* * *

“Data?”

It took a little more than a second for Data to come back to himself.

“Data?” Geordi said again, and Data cut off his internal musing after forty-seven seconds. He placed it on low priority, but continued to run the analysis in the background.

Taking stock, Data found that he was still in Main Engineering, 10 minutes to the end of alpha shift, staring down the Chief Engineer who was looking up at him with a curious expression. It was quiet, the intensity of that silence almost alarming. The room facing the engine core was empty save themselves, but the adjoining rooms and hallways boasted of curious ensigns putting gossip before decorum. 

“Data!” Geordi tried a third time.

He looked back down. “Yes?” 

The engineer exhaled, seemingly relieved there was no need to bring out the android’s diagnostic equipment. “What did you just say?”

Data immediately rewound and repeated the speech that had stumped his friend so thoroughly only a minute before. “I said: Whilst I am aware that your knowledge of me assures that you know I am incapable of it, I find that-” 

“No, Data, I-” Geordi stopped him with a flapping hand, “Skip to the end, please.”

Data complied. He repeated his query. “Do you love me?”

“Platonically?”

“Romantically.”

“Yeah, that’s uh-” Geordi coughed and looked around them at the sudden eruption of titters from the ensigns. “That’s what I thought you meant. Listen, I… I think we’d better talk.”

Data didn’t fuss or question it. He let himself be marched past giggling ensigns and didn’t comment on Geordi’s too-tight grip around his wrist as they made their way through the decks at a pace that made officers unfortunate enough to share a hallways with them swerve and hop to avoid being steamrolled by the Chief Engineer’s uncharacteristically worrisome behavior. 

…Counselor Troi may have wisdom to impart on the situation, but Data inferred that to reach for his comm would result in an undesired reaction from the man leading him into the holodeck that he himself had cordoned off for repairs. 

The grid of criss-crossing blue lines struck both their shapes in sharp contrast to the dark uniformity of the room. The automatic door slid shut behind them with a _whoosh,_ and Geordi released his grip before spinning on his heel and gesturing almost wildly with his hands.

“Data, why? Why are you asking me this?”

He hadn’t meant to cause his friend distress. Data took a moment to choose a dialogue route that wouldn’t cause further strife. “If I offended, or if you prefer not to answer, I will respect any boundary you set.”

Geordi sighed, took a step back, and crossed his arms. “Data, no. I just want to know why you want to know _that_ of all things, all of a sudden!”

“After careful calculation, I found it to be within acceptable odds to consider the risk of making the query. It is of personal interest, Geordi. I think that there is enough evidence to believe that you do. And if that is the case, then I-” He froze at the pained noise that was formed by Geordi’s vocal chords.

“Data, please don’t say something we both know to be impossible in an attempt at sparing my feelings.” 

“That was not my intended action.” 

“Then explain. Please.” His tone of voice had the edge of hopeful desperation Data had heard only when he’d been faced with the specter of his mother. The only explanation Data could think to give would be what was traditionally considered to be a confession. 

What was the idiom the captain had used for situations where once involved, one must not stop at half-measures? 

In for a penny? 

“I seek you out for companionship before considering alternative options. I am not fully satisfied by an experience in the holodeck working through a Holmes mystery unless you are at my side, playing my counterpart as Watson. I entrust you with the care of Spot, despite your mutual dislike. Whenever an away team mission consists of you and not myself, I experience a heightened concern until you are safely back aboard. While my aim is not to please you, when you experience displeasure at the cause of myself I become distressed until I have resolved the issue in question.” 

“Data, those traits are characteristic of friendship.” Geordi cut him off gently. Data tipped his head fifteen degrees to the left and calmly stated, “I am not finished.” 

Geordi nodded at him, a permission for him to continue and an apology for the interruption all at once. Data nodded to give his forgiveness, and completed his thought.

“You are correct in stating that these traits are often also characteristic of a strong friendship. But based on my studies, am I incorrect in assuming that a friendship such as the one described can also form the foundation of a romantic relationship?”

“No… you’re not.” 

“Are these traits not also characteristic of love?” 

“Data,” Geordi sighed, rubbed his temples, and bit his lip. Data watched as his friend gathered his thoughts and readied himself to speak. 

“You once told me that your friendship with me was more important than emotions, Data.” The android nodded, quickly recalling the incident with Lore and the emotion chip. “It… It broke my heart, to put it plainly.”

“Were you experiencing affection towards me even then?” Data asked, eyes widening to express surprise. 

“Yes- no, no, well, _yes._ ” Geordi said, and Data blinked. Geordi held up a hand and said sternly, “That’s not my point. I’ve experienced affection towards you since the day we became friends.” 

“I see. You were referring to a different ‘broken heart’ than that which is the result of unrequited affection given that, as you can deduce from my previous statements, any affection you felt towards me would not have been unrequited.” 

_“No, Data._ It broke my heart because I realized… that’s true for me too.” 

That gave Data pause. “I do not understand. You have emotions.”

“Emotions I’ve chosen to suppress. Look, Data,” Geordi sighed, and Data ceased all other activities and subroutines at his following words. 

“I love you, I’ve… I think I’ve loved you in hundreds of iterations since the moment I knew you. But Data, that doesn’t- I... You know me! Hell, you’ve probably catalogued every single failed romantic encounter of mine since knowing me. I’m not thoughtful, or considerate, or, or- or cut out for a conventional flings, or whatever they’re called. I’m too dedicated to my work, obtuse when it comes to sentiment, and I don’t think I can make anyone fall in love with me, much less _stay.”_

Throughout his speech, Geordi had been pacing with pent up energy, wringing his hands and speaking to the wall, the floor, the ceiling, cables hanging from an open panel, the air itself, looking everywhere but at Data. “So even if- even if I love you, I couldn’t do anything about it! Don’t you understand, it’s too big a risk!” 

He didn’t stop walking. He reached the rear of the deck and only then turned. He looked out of breath, as if speaking this were of great exertion. Data ran an analysis and came to the conclusion that his brave friend was showing traits symptomatic to fear. 

But if Geordi loved him, and knew Data held him in similar esteem...

“If you require further evidence or validation, Geordi, I can tell you this:” He waited until Geordi turned to face him before continuing. “Love generates a desire for commitment, cultivates loyalty, and in some cases provokes an increase of sexual desire. In my case, all three could be said to hold true.” 

Geordi’s skin was incapable of showing the red coloration caused by an elevated heart rate, but Data heard a quickening in his pulse indicative of a state of alarm. He wondered which part of his speech had caused such a reaction. 

“All- I uh, ahem,” Geordi coughed desperately into his fist and said in what could be considered a squeak, “All.. All three?”

“Yes Geordi. You heard correctly. It is my understanding that since we meet all the aforementioned criteria, all we are missing is an elusive ‘spark’ I’ve seen referenced with alarming frequency to truly label this shared experience as love. Furthermore, love is an emotion, but I have also observed that it is often a choice. And while I may not be capable of feeling love, I am fully capable of making choices.”

Geordi stared at him, his eyes wide and dumbfounded, if Data read his expression correctly. 

“Geordi?” 

“Hm?”

“I have completed what is known as a ‘confession’. Now you must respond.” 

“I do, don’t I?” Geordi whispered. And although Data suspected this was another one of his rhetorical questions, he offered an answer regardless. 

“Yes. Your options are to refuse me, or to accept my proposal.”

“This is a lot of pressure, Data.”

“My apologies. I suppose you could answer my initial question and settle my hypothesis: Do you love me, romantically?”

Geordi smiled at him, the soft sort of smile that relaxed his face, but held a devious nature, as Data well knew. 

Data tipped his head left. The engineer slowly walked back to him, speaking as he went. When Geordi spoke, and his voice was even and measured, but joyful. As if puzzling out a harmless enigma in the Engine Room. 

“I don’t know. You raise some very good points— I very well could. But as you said, we’re missing that spark.” 

Data nodded. The answer was unfavorable, and not one he expected, but he’d given his word that he would not let any outcome get in the way of their friendship. “Yes. I will take it that was your rejection?” 

“Now now, don’t go getting ahead of yourself. You’ve got a valid hypothesis. Shouldn’t we test it?” 

His off-handed way of making light of Data’s supposed ‘feelings’ didn’t match the behavior Data would assume from an apologetic Geordi. There was something else happening, but nothing in his experience was helping Data pinpoint what it was. 

“How would we test it?” Data asked curiously. He looked across at his friend, who had stopped and stood only a few steps away. 

Geordi shrugged and his smile grew wider. “Well, there’s one way we can check right now.” 

“How?” He repeated. 

Geordi extended a hand into the empty space that spanned the forty-seven and fourteen hundredths of a centimeter between them. Data felt the warm pad of his palm (thirty-seven degrees Celsius) settle over the left side of his neck. A thumb traced the shape of his jaw as carefully calculated human strength drew him in to close that distance by approximately twenty-two centimeters. 

“Come here,” Geordi said, but Data was already there. 

The remaining distance of twenty-five centimeters closed to zero, and the second Data’s lips came into contact with Geordi’s, he felt it. A spark, electric and sudden, burst into existence between them. A shock equivalent to three thousand volts of electricity. 

And apparently Geordi did as well, judging by the way he yelped and quickly let go of Data’s face to cover his mouth. 

“What the-?” He reached up to grasp the android by the shoulders. “Hey, you okay?”

Data merely blinked and mildly commented: “I did not take the figure of speech to be quite so literal.”

Geordi groaned and ducked his head slightly, shoulders shaking. Data felt laughter against the epidermal sensors on his neck before the sound of it reached his ears. “Data, it’s probably just static.” 

“Hm.” Data hummed, doubtful. But with herculean effort, he kept himself from reminding his entirely capable and learned scientist of a friend that any static electricity would have discharged itself when Geordi’s hand first made contact with his neck. After all, he was worried it would _‘ruin the moment,’_ as it were.

He simply accepted the ‘static’ for what it was. A spark. Another anomaly in his system. An irregularity with no discernable negative repercussions brought on by Geordi’s presence and Data’s own growth. 

So instead he gathered his engineer in his arms and made it so the space between them became as nonexistent as it always had been. His chin came to rest on the cushion of Geordi’s hair.

“No, come back down here,” came Geordi’s voice. “I want to try that again.”

Data leaned back so as to be able to get a clear sight of him. The vision Geordi painted, face upturned, awash with the soft blue glow of the holodeck, was a sight lovely enough for Data to wish for his paints and canvas. 

A hand, nearly dark blue in the lighting, reached up to tug Data’s chin down. Gently, calmly, patiently as always, Geordi guided Data through yet another human custom. Data logged away sensation after sensation, the slight pressure of lips giving way to lips, the sharp and distinct bite of teeth, along with the stark awareness of a hand softly tracing the line of his jaw— up, against the back of his neck, into his hair— 

His feet took four steps back as Geordi pushed him forward, and his back met with the wall of the holodeck. Geordi’s arm, slung over his shoulder and wrapped around his neck, collided with the cables hanging from a half-open panel, whose control boards sent a shower of sparks over them both. 

Geordi pulled away abruptly, yanking them from danger whilst crying out apologies for his boldness, and checking over Data’s torso for any presumable damage. Data took it all in, but focused on the state of Geordi’s voice. Already deep, it had suddenly taken on a sort of gravelliness. It was rough and low, affected. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Geordi asked, with that same affectation tinging his words. 

“I am well.” Data affirmed, “But perhaps it would be best if you paid a visit to Dr. Crusher. I believe the hoarseness of your voice may be a symptom of a throat infection.” 

“Data—” He stopped and quickly cleared his throat. “No, it’s good. This is good.” 

He tilted his head again, “Good?” 

“Yeah,” Geordi grinned.

It was resplendent. 

“It’s indicative of that spark you were talking about.” 

**Author's Note:**

> for the love of Q tell me if there's any daforge shippers still out there? am i alone in this universe? this took me two years to write idk what's going on anymore


End file.
